The Prison Christmas

Christmas Day is the worst time of year for the 500 or so mothers in NSW's prisons.

''It's feral,'' recalled Kat Armstrong, who served three sentences totalling 10 years for armed robbery.

Despairing at not seeing their children, women would feel ''phenomenal guilt'', fights would erupt and self harm often reached record highs.

"It's a time when you celebrate as a family,'' said Ms Armstrong, now the director of the Women in Prison Advocacy Network.

''Regardless of how dysfunctional your background was or how bad your family was, not being there to celebrate with the children makes for a volatile situation in any environment.''

This Christmas Day there will be no visitors. Since a 2007 Industrial Relations Commission ruling giving prison officers the day off, the 2700 families who used to visit every year have been forced to come another day.

There are 10,500 prisoners in NSW, including about 700 women. Justice Action has lobbied for visits to resume. Co-ordinator Brett Collins said the government's decision was short-sighted cost cutting that was hard-hearted and unChristian.

"If dad isn't there, and he misses out on Christmas, he becomes estranged from the family," he said. Even when visitors were allowed, Ms Armstrong recalls dramatic scenes where families were denied access after travelling from across the state because they were 10 minutes late.

''If they thought their children were coming, and then they didn't end up coming, women would end up in segregation because they would lose the plot,'' she said.

It was so traumatic that she often told her mother not to bring her daughter, Phoebe, from whom she was estranged for more than seven years.

During the first Christmas visit, Phoebe, then a toddler, sat in Ms Armstrong's lap for more than two hours with her arms around her mother's neck.

''When it came time to go, she was screaming and didn't want to leave. There was an emotional tug of war trying to drag Phoebe off my neck. And that was happening all around me.''

Julie Power

The Beach Christmas

Sacrificing family time to save lives

On duty: Bruce Hopkins will work this Christmas. Photo: Nick Moir

The memory of a sea of Santa hats bobbing up and down on Bondi's waves - some attached to their often-drunk owners - now seems amusing to Bondi's head lifeguard.

Bruce Hopkins, who has worked every Christmas for 22 years, said Christmas at the beach before alcohol was banned wasn't so amusing at the time.

''There were times back then when all you'd see was a sea of Santa hats with bodies underneath. Some would be on [swimmers'] heads, others would be floating off. And we used to see the Poms coming down the hill with cases of beer on their shoulders.''

One Christmas, his team of lifeguards rescued 100 people.

''Christmas Day is more controlled at the beach now,'' he said. While people can still get drunk at home and then visit the beach, banning alcohol from the beach on Christmas Day meant fewer drunks who needed rescuing.

Because he will be working from noon on Christmas Day to 7pm, the 45-year-old lifeguard celebrated Christmas on Friday night with his family.

On Christmas Day, he spends the morning with his two children, 15 and 11, before his shift starts at the busiest Sydney beach at the busiest time of year.

There will be turkey for lunch, thanks to the production crew of Bondi Rescue, which is filming ''Hoppo'' and his crew throughout the holiday period.

If it is a nice day, more than 30,000 to 40,000 visitors could hit the beach. If it is very hot, as many as 50,000 could visit.

"Sometimes you feel like you missed out a little bit,'' Mr Hopkins said. ''It would be nice to have a Christmas where you can have a few beers and not worry and kick back with family. But I've been doing it for so long, I don't really know any different.''

The Seafood Christmas

As the sun rays creep across the Hawkesbury river shrouded in light mist, Gary Howard pulls in his third catch of the day on board his prawn trawler.

''It's always a good thing to catch a good catch of prawns,'' he says enthusiastically as he tugs at the tangled netting, wriggling with hundreds of school prawns, a long-finned eel and a few freshwater herrings. The stray catches are quickly thrown back into the river.

For 23 years Mr Howard, a second generation fisherman, has been trawling the Hawkesbury river to supply prawns to the north-western outskirts of Sydney. This is his busiest time of year. It is also the biggest catch of the day, so far. Does it make him happy? ''Of course it does,'' he says.

''You just want consumers to enjoy your products and every fisherman is probably the same that they think their catch is the best, but I don't think you could beat these prawns, especially at Christmas time,'' he says, as he grabs a handful of prawns.

The Sydney Fish Markets are also gearing up for the biggest day on their calendar.

For 36 hours, starting on Monday at 5am, the markets are expecting more than 100,000 visitors, a spokeswoman confirmed. Almost 120 tonnes of prawns and 70,000 dozen oysters are expected to be snapped up before Christmas Day.

But despite the busy period, it's an uncertain time for fishermen like Mr Howard.

The average age of a fisherman is 59, and there are 4000 fewer than there were 20 years ago on the waterways, according to the Professional Fishermans Association. More than 85 per cent of seafood sold in NSW is imported and the state government is planning to restructure the commercial fishing industry.

''No one can predict what the true impact of this restructuring will have on our industry and many fishers will simply cease to exist,'' PFA executive officer Tricia Beatty said.

But the NSW Minister of Primary Industries, Katrina Hodgkinson, says the restructure, which may require fishermen to reapply for their jobs early next year, will strengthen the industry.

"We are also aiming to remove or streamline historical fishing controls which, over many years, have forced fishers to operate inefficiently,'' she said.

Back on the trawler, Mr Howard is cooking the prawns.

''They're going to heaven,'' he says as he lowers about 20 kilograms of prawns into his on-board cooker.

''You're basically a hunter, and I can't see what I'm catching, so the knowledge you gain over years to go after your target species and it make that happen, it's very rewarding.

''I would rather be out here with all of this than working in the city or something.''

Sarah Whyte

The Cemetery Christmas

Family gathers to ensure Demir is not alone

Mate: Jose Cabrera at the grave of his grandson Demir. Photo: Sahlan Hayes

This Christmas, 21-year-old Demir Cabrera's family plans to be with him as much in death as in life.

Demir died in July from a heart arrhythmia while swimming in a lake with the woman he loved.

Like most young people, he had been full of plans. He had tickets to a Bon Jovi concert with his aunt Maria Vella.

He also wanted to honour the grandparents who brought him up as another son. His uncle Jose Cabrera said Demir had planned to change his name officially to Cabrera from his birth name of Alispahic, get his grandparents' names tattooed on one arm and an eagle on the other, and get baptised as a Catholic.

His extended family has all but cancelled Christmas. His grandmother Renata Cabrera will hold a small celebration for the children this weekend. On Christmas Day she will give her other grandchildren $50 each, then visit Demir's grave with his cousins, mother and uncles and aunt.

''He was my baby,'' said Mrs Cabrera of Banksia last Thursday as the family unveiled a glass plaque with photos of Demir and his favourite fishing spot, Moes Rock at Jervis Bay.

''He was my best mate,'' said his grandfather Jose Cabrera.

Christmas Day is one of the busiest days at cemeteries, along with Mother's Day and Father's Day, said Graham Boyd,chief executive of Woronora Cemetery where Demir is buried.

In the lead up to Christmas, more than 40,000 people have visited the graves of some of the 200,000 interred at the cemetery where Christmas bushes are in full flower.

Demir was the first to be buried in Cedar Lawn, a new area of Woronora.

Because he was so young, and so alone in the middle of the empty field, others have opted to bury their relatives next to him. ''A lot of people want to be close to Demir, because he was the first one here,'' said his aunt Maria Vella.

They also found it comforting to think of the old being close to the young.

An 83-year-old called Harry is buried next to Demir because his grandaughter wanted him to ''look after Demir''.

It is not that Mr Hull has stolen Christmas like the Dr Seuss character, but he has postponed the annual festivities for more than a week.

This weekend the coastal station will not be winding down for a summer break, but gearing up for its annual resupply of food, fuel and equipment.

The icebreaker Aurora Australis is due in Newcomb Bay off the coast of Casey on Sunday, and for the next eight days about half the 90-plus summer residents will be involved in the complex and demanding logistical operation of moving supplies.

The kitchen will get some 15 tonnes of frozen food, 30 of dried food and about 13 of fresh fruit and vegetables. That will feed residents for another year, with a bit in reserve should resupply be late next season.

About 850,000 litres of fuel will be pumped to the station for vehicles and equipment.

The station's supply officer, Ken Tilley, said the station had recently run out of a few staples such as potatoes, onions, lamb chops and paper towels. Full- cream milk powder supply was "teetering on the edge". But there was still plenty of frozen fish, ice-cream and broad beans.

A resupplied Casey will stage its Christmas celebrations in early January - although the Christmas tree and decorations have been up for a week.

Mr Hull said residents had known since October that resupply would occur over Christmas, and most people had accepted the situation.